


Wet Dreams And Reality

by VanishedElf



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Smut, aot - Freeform, ereri, riren - Freeform, snk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanishedElf/pseuds/VanishedElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Eren is a university student in Dr. Ackerman's class. Eren has a dirty dream about his professor. What will Levi do to help his student to regain his focus for his studies?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Dreams And Reality

The back of the chair dug into Eren's shoulder blades. It wasn't the best feeling in the world. Part of the problem was the position he was sitting in. He hunched backwards so that his ass rested on the very tip of the seat and his knees stretched out past the front of the desk. Even though his posture might have appeared lazy, he wasn't _trying_ to be indolent—quite the opposite. Even Eren, with all his hot-headed, brazen impulsivity, knew that it was a terrible idea to misbehave in Dr. Ackerman's class. The guy could have been a fucking military squad leader given how strict he was.

This was why Eren carefully tucked his legs under the desk, doing his best to take up as little space as possible. He made sure his textbooks and binders didn't extend beyond the edge of the desk's surface and that his bag was tucked neatly under his chair. The fact that his knees stuck out could be blamed on the fact that Eren was tall. All was well should the imperious professor choose to wander past Eren's aisle at some point during the lecture. Or, at least, all was well that could be _controlled._

 _God damn it,_ Eren thought to himself. _I'm twenty. Aren't I getting a little old for this?_

Eren was currently experiencing what had plagued him for the entirety of his junior-high and high-school careers: a no reason boner. This was the reason he was so hunched over to begin with. Bent back like he was, he was able to hide the protrusion in his pants quite well. The underside of the desk concealed what otherwise might have been quite noticeable in his airy cargo pants.

Eren couldn't tell why he was so damn horny. It had been going on all day. Maybe one of the issues was that, what with Dr. Ackerman's merciless class schedule, Eren hadn't gotten the chance to jerk off for the past week. It was hard to believe, but he was just that busy. He went straight home from university, ate a quick meal, read the sixty-some pages of textbooks that Dr. Ackerman had appointed, and finished off whatever assignments he'd received before finally collapsing into bed like a lifeless scarecrow. He didn't have time to eat properly, to shower, or to go shopping for lightbulbs (he'd spent the last two nights lighting his bedroom by his laptop screen alone) so it was no surprise certain _other_ pastimes had been neglected. He was too damn tired. Or at least he had been until this morning.

_I got myself off in the shower. It was fine. So why am I still so riled up?_

Eren didn't fucking know. Maybe he had so much pent up horniness stored up it had begun to pile up on itself, flushing his cheeks red, filling his groin with a noisome ache and making it incredibly difficult not to rub against the underside of the desk to relieve himself. He caught himself on the third thrust, realizing what he was doing with a jolt. He glanced around quickly to make sure nobody had seen. Thankfully everybody seemed absorbed by their note-taking. Eren re-adjusted his grip on his pencil and tried to think of something to write down.

It seemed like the classroom was getting hotter. As if reading his mind, Dr. Ackerman strode across the front of the room and threw open a window. Eren watched the way Dr. Ackerman bent over to undo the sticky latch. The professor wore a white dress shirt tucked into a simple pair of black pants. The shirt fit him perfectly, showcasing his slender build in a maddeningly elegant way. There was just something so mysterious about the way Dr. Ackerman's waist flowed into his hips. It was like glimpsing a perfect ninety degree angle in nature. It hardly ever happened, but when it did, it was arresting. Eren wondered what it might be like to run his hands up and down those hips.

Eren found himself breathing heavily. He legitimately didn't know how much more of this he could take. He knew things must've been getting bad if he was thinking dirty thoughts about his professor—the meanest, strictest, most ruthless one Eren had, at that. He briefly contemplated excusing himself to the washroom to take care of the problem, but that would mean walking across the room without a desk to mask his predicament, and he didn't know if he could cool down long enough to make it out the door without people seeing.

"Did you have something to add, Mr. Yeager?"

Eren realized he'd let out a long, audible sigh. He straightened up reflexively and immediately realized what he had revealed in doing so. He stuffed his hands into his lap, willing himself to calm down.

"N-no, sir!" he stammered.

Ackerman stared at Eren long and hard. Pitchy hair hung in his face and his light-grey eyes almost looked silver. Perhaps it was just the strange glint that enlivened them that gave Eren such an impression. Eren was taken aback. He always figured his professor's gaze to be grey and icy, but the way Ackerman was looking at him right then was anything but cold.

"Meet me in my office after class."

Ackerman spun around and strode back to the dais without waiting for a response. Fellow students stirred around Eren, glancing at him with curiosity. Some were apologetic, others merely seeking a momentary diversion from the backbreaking analysis currently taking place on the blackboard. Either way, Eren should have felt anything but the way he did at that moment. Embarrassment, irritation, or shame were much more suiting states for him right then, provided the way Dr. Ackerman had humiliated him in front of the entire class with little-to-no provocation. But, much to his own vexation, Eren was at least twice as aroused as he had been one minute ago.

He could feel himself literally twitching inside his underwear. He didn't dare lower himself back into the reclined position from before, for fear of attracting more unplaced reprimands from the professor. He highly doubted he would be able to resist rutting against the desk in his current state. What would he do if he actually got off in his pants? Dr. Ackerman had noticed a sigh, so there was very little likelihood he would overlook the inevitable gasping that accompanied an orgasm, stifled as it would be.

Then, he remembered something. Images crossed through his mind... hands on his chest, stroking him hungrily, a tongue trailing down his inner thigh... a slender body pressed against his, drowned in the distilled light of morning, or dusk, or perhaps a rainy afternoon... sighing, panting, gasping in his ear... a rough voice, a commanding voice...

Eren spent the rest of the class with his hands stuffed into his lap, failing to take one note. Once the lecture was over he packed up his things while sitting and waited for his classmates to file out of the room before he stood up. Dr. Ackerman remained at the front of the class, filing notes neatly into a slim briefcase. Eren had hoped his professor would go ahead of him, but to his chagrin, once finished, Ackerman looked up and gave Eren an oddly sarcastic look. The pace of Eren's breathing quickened. After a moment, Ackerman jerked his head in the direction of the door and Eren bolted to his feet, no longer as afraid of being discovered as he was of failing to follow his professor's orders. Ackerman made to leave and the two of them exited, leaving the lecture hall empty and dark.

They were almost at the professor's office when Eren managed to choke out, "What a-appears to be the problem, sir?"

"I notice you've been having a difficult time focusing in class," Dr. Ackerman replied coolly. "There's little point in you attending lectures if you listen to nothing I say."

"I find your lectures very interesting!" Eren blurted out. He immediately blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. "I-I mean, I always do my best to listen..."

"So what happened today?"

"I-I..." Eren watched dumbly as his professor unlocked the door to the office and sauntered inside. Eren walked in slowly after him, terribly self-conscious of his current state. "I was distracted."

"Distracted?" Dr. Ackerman threw his briefcase onto a chair and closed the door behind them. "By what?"

Eren was suddenly sidetracked by the way his professor was standing. Dr. Ackerman stood directly in front of Eren with his hip cocked slightly to the side. One arm was folded across his chest, the other extended upwards so that a finger hovered directly over his lips. He looked pensive—almost broody. Eren couldn't help but notice that if Dr. Ackerman chose to do so, all he would have to do was give Eren a little push and Eren would tumble backwards over his desk. From there Dr. Ackerman could easily prop Eren's legs up over his shoulders and stare down at him with that unrelenting glare as he moved himself in and out—

"I can't tell you!" Eren choked. "It's too embarrassing!"

"Give me your bag."

Eren stared. Ackerman held out his hand and frowned overbearingly. After a moment, Eren sighed and handed over his backpack. He did his best to mask his crotch with his remaining hand.

Eren, expecting his professor to conduct some kind of baggage search, was baffled when Dr. Ackerman merely tossed Eren's bag to the side. It plopped onto the ground with a heavy _bumf._ The sound of textbooks shifting within canvas quickly settled into silence. Dr. Ackerman never once broke eye contact with his student.

"What did you do that for?" Eren questioned peevishly.

"Now your hand."

"W-what!?" Eren sputtered.

Before Eren could stop him, Dr. Ackerman darted forward and grabbed both of Eren's wrists, lifting them until Eren's hands were at shoulder level. Eren dropped his head, hiding his eyes with a fringe of dark-brown hair.

Dr. Ackerman was silent for a while. He stood just like that, holding Eren's wrists to the sides and appraising his student unabashedly. Eren swore he could feel the professor's eyes burning holes in his very soul.

After a while Eren managed to mumble, "I-I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"W-well..."

The bulge in Eren's pants was so obvious he could hardly believe Dr. Ackerman bothered to ask the question.

"It isn't my fault," Eren defended weakly. "I had a dream."

"A dream? About what?"

There was something in Dr. Ackerman's voice that compelled Eren to glance up into his professor's eyes, in spite of his crippling embarrassment. It was low—lower than it usually was—and imperceptibly breathy. It was as if Dr. Ackerman had just taken a light jog.

"Well... about you."

Dr. Ackerman said nothing.

"But it isn't like I expected anything to happen or anything!" Eren said quickly. "It was just a stupid, nonsensical dream. They happen to everyone. I was just unfortunate to have one last night, and well, your class is first thing in the morning, so—"

Eren was cut off as Dr. Ackerman took a step closer. The gap between them shrunk to a mere inch. Eren noticed that the grip on his wrists had tightened slightly.

"What did you dream about?" Dr. Ackerman said softly. As he did, he lowered one of his hands, brushing Eren's chest on the way down.

Eren made an indecipherable sound. If he hadn't been so tense, it might've come out more clearly as the whimper it was supposed to be.

"Answer the question, Mr. Yeager," Dr. Ackerman whispered, running his fingers even farther down, gliding past Eren's abdomen, teasingly close to his aching groin, ending with a swoop along his inner thigh.

"Touch me," Eren gasped, his head spinning from his professor's touch. He took a deep breath, managing to compose himself only slightly. "You touched me all over. I can't remember everything clearly, but I know when I woke up, I'd made a mess of myself—"

He could hardly believe he was speaking to his professor this way.

Strangely enough, Dr. Ackerman seemed hardly phased by Eren's recollections. He lowered Eren's other wrist in the same way, ending with a flourish along Eren's other thigh. Eren wondered if his own precum would end up soaking through his pants. It certainly seemed possible.

"What else happened?"

Eren was becoming incoherent. Words bumbled around in his head like stunned kickboxers. He struggled to regain enough of a grasp on reality to answer Dr. Ackerman's question. "I remember feeling you, s-something like this..." Eren was suddenly running his fingers along his professor's sides, up his back and back down again. "I wanted to feel your skin on mine so badly, I..." Without thinking, he began unbuttoning Dr. Ackerman's shirt from the bottom up. When it was undone halfway Eren stopped, slipping his hand inside. "God, you have a beautiful body," he sighed, sliding his hand along Dr. Ackerman's abdomen. "It would be amazing to feel you pressed against me..."

"What..." Dr. Ackerman appeared to be significantly more out of breath than the last time he'd spoken. "What do you mean by that?"

To help his professor understand, Eren slid his hand lower and undid Dr. Ackerman's belt without a thought. The student was in a trance. He was completely at the whims of his own desire, and until somebody told him to stop, he would remain so. He had no way to evaluate the appropriateness of his own behaviour anymore. His sole purpose was to make Dr. Ackerman understand what it was that plagued him, and nothing more.

He heard Dr. Ackerman gasp as he slipped his hand down the professor's briefs. Dr. Ackerman was hard—almost as hard as Eren himself. For some reason Eren wasn't surprised. Perhaps it was because he had already dreamt it to be this way; or, maybe he was just too horny to be surprised about much of anything.

"I just want to know," Eren breathed, working Dr. Ackerman's cock in his hand, "what this would feel like inside of me."

Dr. Ackerman caught Eren's lips with his own. The professor's kiss was feverish in the most desperate of ways. He bit Eren's lips, gasping into Eren's mouth, but seemed incapable of focusing long enough to kiss him very deeply. Eren made up for it, leaning forward and penetrating Dr. Ackerman's mouth with his tongue. Dr. Ackerman groaned into Eren's mouth.

"That's enough," Dr. Ackerman barked, pushing Eren back just as Eren had hoped he would. Eren fell clumsily onto the desk and felt his pants being ripped off with impressive speed. Next were his boxers. Eren was too hot to be embarrassed at how suddenly exposed he was. His cock spasmed against his lithe stomach, leaving a warm trail of precum stringing between his pubes and his inner thigh. Dr. Ackerman bent over and licked it up, starting on Eren's thigh, skimming the surface of his pubes, and making his way up the side of Eren's cock with exasperating leisure.

"Professor!" Eren cried, feeling himself convulse dangerously. "Be careful, you're gonna make me—"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Not until I've had you inside me," Eren begged. "I need to feel it, please, I want—"

Dr. Ackerman opened one of his drawers with aggressive speed and unearthed a bottle of oil.

"What's that?"

"It's hand salve," Dr. Ackerman explained hurriedly. He undid the cap and squirted a bunch into his palm. If he had stroked Eren right then and there, even just once, doubtless the student would have exploded instantly.

"How do you want it?"

"Hurry up," Eren gasped, bumping his lower back against the edge of the desk and ignoring his professor's question. Dr. Ackerman, the responsible and detail-oriented man that he was, did his best to prep Eren as quickly and effectively as he could. Soon enough he was positioned outside the boy's opening, doing his all to ignore Eren's needy pleas for _more_ as he entered the boy slowly. His restraint was partially for his student's sake, and partially for his own. He didn't want to explode before thrusting into the boy at least a couple times.

They waited like that for a heated minute, gripping one another, breathing heavily as their bodies adjusted to the presence of the other. Then Dr. Ackerman began to move. Eren's body was more than ready and he reached up, wringing his hair with one hand and moaning depravedly.

Dr. Ackerman moved faster and deeper. Eren could hear the older man crying out under his breath, little curses and moans and gasps. The sounds only served to provoke Eren further. He wiggled until his professor got the hint, propping Eren's legs over his shoulders, but he didn't stop there. Dr. Ackerman leaned over the desk until Eren was curled into a little ball underneath him. Eren could hear his professor's panting right in his ear. Their abdomens and chests ground together intermittently and Eren felt excruciatingly vulnerable. His prostate was getting absolutely obliterated by the tip of Dr. Ackerman's cock and he thought he might die of pleasure. He moaned over and over, leaving long red scratches along his professor's shoulder blades with his nails.

It seemed Dr. Ackerman was losing control. His thrusts were becoming wonderfully erratic and his head tipped backwards, revealing a silent, restrained cry. He reached forward and seized Eren's cock, his hand still slick with oil. All it took was a couple pumps and Eren was coming, thrashing like a fish in water, kicking and arching his back and practically sobbing as his orgasm ran him through. Dr. Ackerman held on for the whole thing, gripping Eren's ass and pressing deeper, revelling in the spasms that resulted deep within Eren's body.

At last it was over. Eren sunk backwards and closed his eyes. The high from his orgasm remained, but his self-awareness had begun to return, much like the incriminating light of morning after a night of drunken debauchery. Dr. Ackerman's cock was still inside him, his shirt was bunched up under his pits, he was covered in his own cum and sweat and drool, and Eren didn't rightly know what to do.

"Well, brat," Dr. Ackerman growled, brushing a sweaty lock out of the boy's eyes. Eren looked up and found his professor to be just as dishevelled as himself. Dr. Ackerman's hair was so damp it looked like chunks of coal-stained straw were dangling in his face. His shirt was still only half open and his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. "I hope that you'll be able to concentrate on your studies now."

Eren stared at his professor for a whole ten seconds. Then, he let his head drop backwards against the desk with a dull _thud._

"Right," Eren said, almost daring to chuckle. "Sure. Now I'll be able to focus just fine."

 

**_FIN_ **


End file.
